Book 4, Chapter 2
Voting
It may be seen, from the last chapter, that the way in which general business is managed may give a clear enough indication of the actual state of morals and the health of the body politic. The more concert reigns in the assemblies, that is, the nearer opinion approaches unanimity, the greater is the dominance of the general will. On the other hand, long debates, dissensions and tumult proclaim the ascendancy of particular interests and the decline of the State.
As the last chapter shows, the handling of public affairs may clearly reveal society’s moral condition and political health. The more agreement there is in assemblies, meaning the closer opinions come to unanimity, the more the general will prevails. On the other hand, long debates, divisions, and uproar show that private interests have gained control and the State is declining.
This seems less clear when two or more orders enter into the constitution, as patricians and plebeians did at Rome; for quarrels between these two orders often disturbed the comitia, even in the best days of the Republic. But the exception is rather apparent than real; for then, through the defect that is inherent in the body politic, there were, so to speak, two States in one, and what is not true of the two together is true of either separately. Indeed, even in the most stormy times, the plebiscita of the people, when the Senate did not interfere with them, always went through quietly and by large majorities. The citizens having but one interest, the people had but a single will.
The point seems less clear when a constitution includes two or more social orders, as Rome included patricians and plebeians. Quarrels between these two orders often disrupted the comitia, or public assemblies, even in the Republic’s best days. But the exception is more apparent than real. Because of a flaw inherent in the body politic, there were, so to speak, two States in one. What is not true of the two together is true of each separately. Indeed, even in the most turbulent times, the people’s plebiscita, or resolutions, always passed peacefully and by large majorities. This was the case when the Senate did not interfere with those resolutions. Since the citizens shared a single interest, the people had a single will.
At the other extremity of the circle, unanimity recurs; this is the case when the citizens, having fallen into servitude, have lost both liberty and will. Fear and flattery then change votes into acclamation; deliberation ceases, and only worship or malediction is left. Such was the vile manner in which the senate expressed its views under the Emperors. It did so sometimes with absurd precautions. Tacitus observes that, under Otho, the senators, while they heaped curses on Vitellius, contrived at the same time to make a deafening noise, in order that, should he ever become their master, he might not know what each of them had said.
At the opposite end of the circle, unanimity returns. This happens when citizens have fallen into servitude and lost both their freedom and their will. Fear and flattery then turn votes into shouts of approval. Debate stops, and nothing remains but worship or curses. Such was the degrading way the senate expressed its views under the Emperors. The senators sometimes took absurd precautions. Tacitus notes that, under Otho, the senators heaped curses on Vitellius while deliberately making a deafening noise. They did this so that, if Vitellius ever became their master, he would not know what each senator had said.
On these various considerations depend the rules by which the methods of counting votes and comparing opinions should be regulated, according as the general will is more or less easy to discover, and the State more or less in its decline.
These various considerations determine the rules for counting votes and comparing opinions. The rules depend on how easily the general will can be identified and how far the State has declined.
There is but one law which, from its nature, needs unanimous consent. This is the social compact; for civil association is the most voluntary of all acts. Every man being born free and his own master, no-one, under any pretext whatsoever, can make any man subject without his consent. To decide that the son of a slave is born a slave is to decide that he is not born a man.
Only one law, by its very nature, requires everyone’s consent: the social compact. This is because joining a civil society is the most voluntary of all acts. Every man is born free and is his own master. So no one, under any pretext, can place a man under another’s authority without his consent. To declare that a slave’s son is born a slave is to declare that he is not born a man.
If then there are opponents when the social compact is made, their opposition does not invalidate the contract, but merely prevents them from being included in it. They are foreigners among citizens. When the State is instituted, residence constitutes consent; to dwell within its territory is to submit to the Sovereign.
If, then, some people oppose the social compact when it is made, their opposition does not invalidate the contract. It only excludes those opponents from the contract. They are foreigners among citizens. Once the State is established, living there counts as consent. To live within its territory is to submit to the Sovereign.
This applies, of course, only to a free State. Elsewhere, family, property, lack of refuge, necessity, or violence may keep a man in a country against his will. In that case, living there alone no longer implies his consent to the contract or to its violation.
Apart from this primitive contract, the vote of the majority always binds all the rest. This follows from the contract itself. But it is asked how a man can be both free and forced to conform to wills that are not his own. How are the opponents at once free and subject to laws they have not agreed to?
Except for the original contract, the majority’s vote always binds everyone else. This rule follows from the contract itself. But people ask how someone can be free while being forced to follow the will of others. How can those who oppose a law be free while being subject to a law they have not agreed to?
I retort that the question is wrongly put. The citizen gives his consent to all the laws, including those which are passed in spite of his opposition, and even those which punish him when he dares to break any of them. The constant will of all the members of the State is the general will; by virtue of it they are citizens and free. When in the popular assembly a law is proposed, what the people is asked is not exactly whether it approves or rejects the proposal, but whether it is in conformity with the general will, which is their will. Each man, in giving his vote, states his opinion on that point; and the general will is found by counting votes. When therefore the opinion that is contrary to my own prevails, this proves neither more nor less than that I was mistaken, and that what I thought to be the general will was not so. If my particular opinion had carried the day I should have achieved the opposite of what was my will and it is in that case that I should not have been free.
I reply that the question is framed incorrectly. The citizen consents to all laws, including those passed despite his opposition. He even consents to laws that punish him when he dares to break any law. The general will is the enduring will of all members of the State. Through the general will, they are citizens and free. When a law is proposed in the popular assembly, the people are not exactly being asked to approve or reject it. Instead, they are asked whether the proposed law agrees with the general will, which is their own will. Each person’s vote expresses his opinion on that question. The general will is determined by counting the votes. So when the opinion opposed to mine wins, that result proves nothing more or less than that I was mistaken. What I thought was the general will was not the general will. If my own opinion had won, I would have achieved the opposite of what I willed. In that case, I would not have been free.
In Genoa, the word Liberty appears above prison entrances and on the chains of galley slaves. This use of the motto is right and just. Indeed, only criminals from all social ranks prevent citizens from being free. In a country where all such men were galley slaves, people would enjoy the most perfect liberty.
This presupposes, indeed, that all the qualities of the general will still reside in the majority: when they cease to do so, whatever side a man may take, liberty is no longer possible.
This does, of course, assume that the majority still has all the qualities of the general will. When the majority loses those qualities, freedom is no longer possible, whatever side a person takes.
In my earlier demonstration of how particular wills are substituted for the general will in public deliberation, I have adequately pointed out the practicable methods of avoiding this abuse; and I shall have more to say of them later on. I have also given the principles for determining the proportional number of votes for declaring that will. A difference of one vote destroys equality; a single opponent destroys unanimity; but between equality and unanimity, there are several grades of unequal division, at each of which this proportion may be fixed in accordance with the condition and the needs of the body politic.
Earlier, I showed how particular wills replace the general will in public debate. In doing so, I adequately explained practical ways to prevent this abuse. I will say more about these methods later. I also gave principles for determining the proportion of votes needed to declare the general will. A difference of one vote breaks a tie. A single opponent prevents unanimity. But between a tie and unanimity, there are several degrees of unequal division. The required proportion may be set at any of these levels, according to the political community’s circumstances and needs.
There are two general rules that may serve to regulate this relation. First, the more grave and important the questions discussed, the nearer should the opinion that is to prevail approach unanimity. Secondly, the more the matter in hand calls for speed, the smaller the prescribed difference in the numbers of votes may be allowed to become: where an instant decision has to be reached, a majority of one vote should be enough. The first of these two rules seems more in harmony with the laws, and the second with practical affairs. In any case, it is the combination of them that gives the best proportions for determining the majority necessary.
Two general rules may help govern this relationship. First, the more serious and important the questions discussed, the closer the winning vote should come to unanimity. Second, the more urgently a decision is needed, the smaller the required margin of votes may be. When an immediate decision is needed, a majority of one vote should be enough. The first rule seems better suited to laws, and the second to practical matters. In any case, combining these rules gives the best balance for deciding how large a majority is needed.